After his team finished the task without being detected, Roman closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Since starting the blood-substitute program, Roman hadn’t killed anyone. And tonight he’d killed twice. First, out of necessity—to protect Gabriel. But Erik? He wiped blood from his eyes and mouth, fighting the urge to lick his lips.
His legs shook as he pushed himself to stand.
On the highway, rumbling of a heavy vehicle drew near. Roman froze. The vehicle stopped. So did Roman’s heartbeat.
Muffled words drifted toward him. He cocked his head and listened closer.
Gabriel thanked the Good Samaritan for offering to help and explained they didn’t have car trouble; they’d only stopped to study a map.
Roman let out a big sigh when the stranger clomped back to his big rig and drove off. More traffic approached, slowed down, and passed by.
“Calm down,” he muttered to himself. “Take your time. Don’t get sloppy.” He was covered with blood. He rummaged through the van searching for his duffle, but couldn’t find it. Instead, he found Erik’s. Guess he wouldn’t be needing his jacket, after all.
He pulled the blood soaked shirt over his head and tossed it in the duffle bag. He splashed bottled water on his blood-smeared face, torso, and hands. Satisfied he’d rinsed away every trace of Erik, he slipped on the dead vampire’s jacket.
The sooner Roman left this bloodbath, the better. He surveyed the interior of the van and realized too much vampire-killing paraphernalia was left inside for one person to carry away. He whistled for assistance.
“You need help?” Seth asked a few seconds later and poked his head in the van.
“Yeah. Get busy.” Roman tossed a duffle at Seth.
Together they loaded one bag with boxes of bullets, wooden stakes, and more daggers. The second duffle was filled with manila folders, a laptop, and six iPads, along with any ID’s belonging to the slayers. Nothing, except for bodies, could be left behind.
Twigs snapped.
Roman froze. He glanced outside, and grinned. Two mountain lions padded toward the van. “Hey Seth, looks like your friends are here.”
Seth dropped the bag and jumped outside. He made eye contact with the largest cat—a female. It inched toward him and stopped. The sight of Seth seemed to calm the lioness. He held out his hand and the cat sniffed it. “Hello, Beautiful. You hungry?” He stroked the animal’s head, and pointed at the feast Erik’s body would provide.
To allow the mountain lions access to the corpses inside the van, Roman jumped outside and stepped away from the open doors. Soon three much smaller cats bounded into the clearing.
“Okay Mama, feed your babies.” Seth stroked the female’s back.
The young ones sniffed Erik’s body and began to lap up his blood. The bigger cats seemed more interested in the Smorgasbord inside the van.
The corners of Roman’s mouth curled upward.
Perfect.
The cats had just compromised the kill site.
“Now let’s get the hell out of here,” Roman said, and helped Seth zip up the duffle bags. Each grabbed a bag and hustled to the bottom of the cliff. Flexing their knees, they jumped and landed near the vehicle. A large roadmap was spread out across the SUV’s hood. Leaning over the map, Alex held the penlight and Gabriel studied the map.
Roman opened the SUV’s rear door and tossed the loot inside. “Seth, this thing you got going on with big cats…it freaks me out.”
“Guess I feel drawn to them. And they seem to like me. It’s good, huh?”
“Yes Seth, it’s very good.” Roman slapped his warrior on the back. He riffled through the plunder in the back of the vehicle, until he found what he needed. He grabbed the manila folders and closed the door.
“Someone else drive while I take care of business.” He dug keys out of his pants pocket and tossed them in the direction of his men.
Reaching up, Gabriel made one of his famous one-handed catches. He jumped inside the SUV and turned on the ignition.
Roman claimed the shotgun seat.
Alex folded the map on the hood and clambered in the back seat next to Seth.
On their way to the lab, Roman flipped through the contents of the first folder. “We hit the jackpot, Gabe.”
“Why’s that?”
“Printouts of names, locations, maps, schedules. Everything.” Roman opened the glove box and pulled out a cell phone. He hit speed dial, and after one ring, Levi, head of the Elder Council answered. “This is Roman. We got them. But there’s something you need to know.” He passed along information about Erik’s behavior. “He tried to kill Seth and me. What the hell happened to him?” He listened. “I’ll pass it on. Thanks for the update. I appreciate it.” He ended the call.
“So?” Alex asked.
“Levi’s pleased. We can collect the bounty on Tuesday.” Roman stared at the phone, running his index finger over the blank screen.
“I meant about Erik. What did he say about him?” Alex asked.
Roman let out a long sigh. He wasn’t used to relaying phone conversations to his men. But since beginning the program, their hearing wasn’t as sharp as when they were full-blown vampires. “Lately Erik started making noises about his career. Levi advised him to lie low, to pull back. But he didn’t. Instead he went rogue and played both sides. The Elder Council started an investigation. Erik found out and…well, he knew the consequences of treason.” A pause followed. “They call what he did “Suicide by Vampire.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “And naturally, he chose me as the vessel. Damn him to hell.”
“You can’t blame yourself. You did what any of us would have done,” Gabriel said, keeping his gaze on the winding highway.
“Yeah, he attacked you,” Seth added.
“I know, but still….” A lump formed in Roman’s throat. He tossed the cell back into the glove box and slammed it shut. “Levi also told me the vamps I sent away are already settled in up north.”
“That’s good to hear,” Alex said
Yes, it was. Hearing the Elder Council’s verification that his former vamps had successfully integrated into a different vampire community pleased him. The news freed him to focus his energy on the formula. And, hopefully, Grace.
Gabriel whooped and clapped Roman’s shoulder. “We kicked ass tonight! It was awesome.”
“It was a disaster.” Erik’s slaying. Gabriel’s close call. Roman blew out a long breath and closed his eyes. “How’s your side, Gabe?”
“Healing. Come on, Roman, lighten up.”
Roman stared ahead at the double yellow lines snaking around the sharp curves on the narrow road. He couldn’t shake the image of Erik’s headless body sprawled out in the clearing where he ended up being food for a pride of mountain lions. What caused Erik to go rogue?
“If he needed help, why didn’t he come to me?” he murmured. “We were real tight once. I should have seen the signs, should have noticed something was wrong.”
“Maybe you’re getting too old for the job.” Levity sounded in Gabriel’s voice.
“That’s an understatement.” Despite his team’s laughter, Roman remained somber. He’d screwed up when he let his crew witness him break down after slaying Erik. He appeared weak. Vulnerable. Human. And something else bothered him. “Since we started the Ortega Project, it’s pretty obvious we’ve lost a lot of strength and healing power.” He glanced at the wound in his palm. “We’re not what we used to be.”
“You thinking about stepping down?” Gabriel asked, sounding much too pleased at the prospect of taking charge of the team.
The laughter from the back seat stopped.
Why didn’t Gabriel come clean and admit he wanted his job? If Gabe only knew how much Roman longed to turn the reins of power over to him, but this wasn’t the right time. Not yet. Gabe wasn’t ready. He was too reckless, and too damn dangerous to himself and the team. He shuddered recalling how an overconfident Gabriel let his guard down and allowed himself to get stabbed. With him
in charge, none of his men would last a month.
“You wish. In case you forgot, I was appointed,” Roman reminded him.
“Appointed, not anointed,” Gabriel shot back.
More laughter. Then silence. Roman pulled down the visor and glanced in the vanity mirror. Two sets of eyes stared back at him, waiting for his response.
“Did you ever wonder why the Elder Council chose me?”
Gabriel didn’t answer.
The backseat passengers smiled at him. In the past, each had privately begged him not to put Gabriel in charge. He flipped the visor back into position. Gabriel was the fiercest warrior on his team. By far, the best he’d ever seen. And when the time came, when Gabriel was ready, Roman would gladly turn over leadership to him.
Daylight. Traffic increased. The team headed to the institute and much needed sleep, where Roman hoped to dream of Grace. And with any luck, it would be a very good dream.
8
Grace
The morning following Roman’s humiliating rejection, Grace slept in. No classes or lab. No alarm clock. No ringing phone. She set her cell on vibrate. Whoever kept calling her caused the pesky thing to clatter and dance across the top of her coffee table. Frustrated, she grabbed the little noisemaker and slid it across the carpeted floor and into the wall. She wasn’t in the mood to speak with anyone. Not Deanna. Not her mom. Not Jennifer. And especially not Roman.
Engaging Deanna in conversation would only bring up the subject of Roman and she didn’t want to hear her friend’s interrogation. If her mom called, she’d have to listen to her wail about Jake and forgiveness and shit like that, not to mention her dad’s disappointment about the wedding he wouldn’t be officiating. Jennifer would only gush about Mark.
And Roman? She buried her face in the pillow and punched the mattress with both fists. What a fool she’d been. An angry tear escaped. Never again. Jake didn’t want her. And with one roadblock after another standing in the way of Roman and her getting together, it seemed like that romance was going nowhere—fast! Or was something else stopping him from having sex? God knows I was willing. Was he married? Gay? Impotent? She gritted her teeth and growled into the pillow.
Perhaps she’d become a nun.
Sunlight peeked into her apartment between slats of half-closed blinds. Opening the blinds all the way would only invite sunshine in and she wasn’t in the mood for happy. She pushed herself into a sitting position and dangled her feet over the edge of the bed. Staring at nothing in particular, she let out an exasperated sigh and kicked her pink slippers across the room and into the front door. “Crap!”
She shuffled into the kitchenette and glanced at the coffee maker without brewing a cup. Her cell phone buzzed, but she didn’t care enough to check caller ID. “Double Crap!”
Opting for a shower instead, she lumbered into the bathroom and slipped out of her oversized Dodgers T-shirt. She reached inside the shower stall, turned on the water, and adjusted the temperature and stepped inside. The pulsating spray beating on her back and neck proved to be the perfect medicine. A few minutes later, she stepped out of the shower—refreshed. She turned off the water, wrapped herself in a soft, pink bathrobe, and wound a towel around her hair.
Returning to her living room, she turned on the television and settled on a baseball game. Emotionally spent, she collapsed on the daybed. But in case sleep came, she set her alarm for five o’clock to give herself time to get ready for tonight’s shift.
Hopefully, Roman wouldn’t show up. And considering how he’d stormed out of her bed the last time she saw him, she doubted he had the balls to make an appearance at the club. Damn him.
* * *
Doc
* * *
Since discovering problems with the formula, Doc grew concerned about the team losing their vampire strength and healing capability. Something needed to be done quickly. Doc scheduled a much needed meeting with Crawford, and to better explain the escalating crisis, he invited Roman to accompany him.
On his way to the meeting, he met Roman in the hallway. “I hope you’re prepared for a confrontation. Crawford’s not going to like the reason for the meeting.”
Roman chuckled. “Guess there’s no easy way to tell him the project’s fucked up.”
Arriving at Crawford’s office, they were met by an open door.
As the approached the doorway, Crawford looked up from a stack of papers on his desk. “Come in,” he said and adjusted his striped tie. He pointed at two chairs across the desk from where he sat. “Have a seat.”
They accepted the offer and lowered themselves onto the tan, leather chairs.
Crawford eyed Roman suspiciously and glanced at Doc. “Why is Roman here?”
“I asked him to come along. He’s better able to describe what’s been happening to his team.”
Shifting in his chair, Crawford faced Roman. “I understand you were injured during a mission. Exactly what happened?”
Roman straightened in his chair and squared his shoulders. “According to our agreement, I’m forbidden to reveal details of my work for the Elder Council.”
Crawford tented his fingers on the desk. “Oh, I disagree. We’re supposed to be partners.”
Fearing Roman would answer confrontationally, Doc held up his hand to let him know that he’d respond. “Concerning the project at the lab? Yes. But, I agree with Roman. As I understand the contract, Roman’s team is a covert group. Revealing details of what they do, or where, must not be shared.”
Crawford’s narrow-eyed gaze swung to Roman. “But I’m entitled—”
“Unfortunately, you are not,” Roman answered. “The arrangement between the institute and the Elder Council only requires that both organizations have knowledge of each other. Our team needed permission to begin this program and you needed to know why we disappeared from time to time. Anything beyond that is off limits.
Suddenly, Crawford’s motive became clear: Knowledge is power and his boss wanted it all. Doc made a mental note to remind Roman to be more careful what’s said with his supervisor within earshot.
“I couldn’t disagree more,” Crawford snapped.
Doc shook his head. “Something’s gone terribly wrong with the formula and it would be best if you heard directly from Roman about unintended consequences he and his team are experiencing.” He nodded at Roman.
Leaning back in his chair, Crawford motioned for Roman to continue. “So tell me what’s going on.”
“I’ll show you instead.” Roman stood. He pulled his black T-shirt over his head and handed it to Doc. He ran his index finger along the length of the scar across this chest. “It’s a surface wound that should be gone by now, or at the very least, barely noticeable.” He pointed to his forearm. “An unhealed wound.” He opened his hand to reveal his scarred palm. “And another.”
Doc considered bringing up the fact that Gabriel’s stab wound hadn’t completely healed either, but for now, he decided to keep that information to himself.
Crawford whistled out a breath, obviously surprised. He slid his glasses down from the top of his head and wound around his desk. Eyes narrowing, he stood in front of Roman, scrutinized each scar, then winced and stepped back.
Doc handed Roman his T-shirt. “It was my understanding that the men wouldn’t lose any of their strength or healing ability during the transformation. Now it seems both have been compromised.”
“How are you planning to fix this?” Roman asked, and pulled on his shirt
“Apparently becoming human has its drawbacks. We’ll need to run additional tests to—”
“Not good enough,” Roman snapped. “We need this fixed now. What happens if we’re dispatched to intercept slayers heading our way? This poses a serious problem for us.”
Crawford returned to his side of the desk and eased himself into his chair. He rubbed his temples. “Yes. We’ll start tomorrow.”
“Roman balled his hands into fists. “You either start working on the problem now—today—o
r we walk.”
“Acting in such a drastic manner could be dangerous…even fatal for your team,” Crawford argued.
Roman’s nostrils flared.
Fearing a volatile confrontation, Doc clenched his teeth and shook his head, signaling Roman to calm down, only to be soundly ignored.
“You mean, fatal for you, if you don’t fix this—now,” Roman argued.
A scowl settled on Crawford’s face and he sucked in a deep breath. “Think back to when we met. You approached us. We—Doc and I—were reluctant to take on the project, but you convinced us to help your vampires.” His shouted. “At that time, we explained there would be risks.” The doctor’s face reddened. “We warned you, Roman. Didn’t we Doc? We warned you.”
Doc nodded.
Veins stood out on Roman’s forehead as he reached across the desk, grabbed Crawford by the lapels on his white lab coat, and dragged him over the desktop until they were nose to nose.
“Are you challenging me?” Roman’s eyes went wide and he let out a low, menacing growl.
“That’s enough, Roman,” Doc jumped to his feet, trying to regain control of the vampire.
Roman snarled, dropped the doctor on his desk, stormed out of his office, and slammed the door.
Crawford pushed himself from the desk. Back on his feet, he straightened his lab coat and adjusted his tie.
“I apologize for Roman’s behavior, but surely you can understand his frustration… It may have made a mistake to bring him along.”
“I agree. Now get the hell out of my office and never bring him in here again.”
Doc made a hasty exit. He drew back in surprise at seeing Roman waiting for him in the hallway.
“That was a stupid stunt you just pulled. I would expect such behavior from Gabriel, but not you. Good God,” he said, running his hand over his head, “what the hell were you thinking?”
9
Grace
Although Grace stayed home from class that day, she still managed to show up for work. She sleepwalked through her shift at the club, struggling to maintain the fake smile plastered across her face. Weary from deflecting passes from wannabe Casanovas, she longed to go home and break open the bottle of Merlot she kept for special occasions. From the direction her life was heading, special occasions were not in her future. Maybe if she was lucky, tonight she would get very drunk.
The Ortega Project Page 8